


Worth the Wait

by yutorin



Series: The Heisei Kumi [12]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Domesticity, Fluff, Kenichi is mentioned, Kissing, M/M, No Violence in this one, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Sharing a Bed, Tattoos, originally posted in 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 17:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20839502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutorin/pseuds/yutorin
Summary: Hikaru found himself up worrying when Keito stayed out late one night.





	Worth the Wait

Hikaru yawned, blinking and attempting to focus on the documents in front of him. It was hard. Keito still wasn't back, and he hadn't called. He'd gone out with his father around midday to celebrate the Oyabun's birthday, and Hikaru hadn't been anticipating for lunch to drag out, or for there to be any other plans, assuming that Kenichi would be busy, even on his birthday. He'd thought Keito would be home at the latest in time for an after dinner game of cards, and yet, here he was, sitting up past midnight watching the clock. Something must have happened. He resisted the urge to call, reminding himself that between Keito, his father, and Kenichi's personal entourage, everyone would be fine. They could handle themselves. No one would be stupid enough to attempt to hurt them anyway. Probably.

He was drumming his fingers on the flat of the desk, incessantly tapping, his jaw clenching as his eyes wandered from the pages he had been attempting to focus on. He watched the tendons in his arm move, watched the way they made his skin ripple. He was working himself up, and he knew it. He'd always gotten anxious whenever Keito was out late, it had been something that never failed to put him on edge. He could wait in the kitchen he decided. The house phone―an old corded thing, big and bulky from the nineties―hung on the wall in there. Keito could call. He gathered all of his papers in a stack, taking his time to make them neat, dragging the process out before he opened the door.

All of the others had gone to bed early, everyone still recovering from a fight they'd been in a few days previous. The house was dark and silent, and he moved as quietly as possible into the kitchen, flicking on the lights, his eyes automatically going to the phone. He began working to spread all of the pages back out on their big table, taking his time and arranging them, the only noise his beating heart and the rustle of paper. He had the pages all laid out, and was going to sit down when the front door opened and Keito stepped in, the younger man blinking and scrunching his face up when the bright fluorescent lights of the kitchen hit his eyes.

Hikaru stood, discarding his papers at once and going to greet Keito, relief warm in his chest, his eyes automatically sweeping over Keito's body, looking for any signs of new injuries. He still had that big purple bruise on his right cheek, and the cut over his eye, but he was favoring his left arm, and that certainly hadn’t been injured during the raid. Hikaru frowned, a spike of worry running through him as he leaned into Keito, pulling him in for a hug. Keito hugged him back, wrapping one arm around Hikaru's lower back and resting his chin on Hikaru's shoulder. It wasn’t his usual rib crushing all enveloping bear hug, but it felt good. He seemed to sense Hikaru's anxious feelings, because the first words out of his mouth were

"I'm okay. Everyone's okay. I'm sorry I'm back so late, I didn't know my dad had made extra plans." As he spoke they pulled away, just enough for Hikaru to press his lips to Keito’s own, feeling himself calming as Keito kissed him. The novelty of it hadn’t worn off yet, and it still made something hot and fluttery and exciting ignite in his stomach whenever Keito would lean into him and press their lips together. As their lips worked against each other the worries he’d had a few minutes previous felt almost silly. Almost.

When they pulled apart he realized that Keito was still holding his left arm stiffly, out away from his body just enough so that it didn’t touch anything, as if touching it would hurt. Something wasn’t right. He let his eyes run over the limb, trying to figure out what had happened, but Keito was still wearing the button up shirt and tie he’d left in, hiding any injuries he had under the fabric.

“I have something to show you.” Keito told him. “My dad gave me something.” He seemed excited, but Hikaru honestly wasn’t paying attention, too focused on the fact that Keito still hadn’t used his left arm, and he frowned, asking

“Your arm, Keito, what happened? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure. I’m fine, I promise.” Keito assured him, taking Hikaru’s hand in his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll show you, but we should go into your room, I don’t want to wake anyone up.” Keito’s eyes flicked up the staircase, as if expecting one of their housemates to emerge, grumbling from the darkness. His eyebrows were pushed together just a little bit, his eyes wide with concern, and sometimes Hikaru forgot just how damn sweet Keito was, but he was reminded every time he saw that expression. Hikaru nodded. He turned back to the kitchen table, scooping the papers up and shoving them into their folder, following behind as Keito walked through the living room, and his office, to Hikaru’s bedroom. When they got there Keito took a seat on the edge of Hikaru’s bed, loosening his tie with one hand before starting to fiddle with the knot, attempting to get it undone without the use of his left hand.

“Here.” Hikaru said, leaning down and brushing Keito’s hand away, taking the tie off himself, before going to work on the buttons on Keito’s shirt, undoing them one by one until the garment could be slipped off. Keito was getting tan, the warmth of spring sunshine beginning to leave an impression on his body, and Hikaru let his eyes linger a little as he worked, relishing the moment. Keito just sat still, letting him do it, his hands out to prop himself up on Hikaru’s mattress, and the whole situation made something warm ignite in Hikaru’s stomach.

“Thanks.” Keito said, reaching out and pulling Hikaru in for a kiss, this one a bit more intense than the innocent one they’d shared by the door. Hikaru let himself get lost in it for a moment. God, Keito could kiss. He kissed like he fucking loved it. Like it was his favorite thing, and it had very quickly become one of Hikaru’s favorite things. It wasn’t until they broke apart that Keito moved to actually take his shirt off, his eyes flicking to Hikaru’s face as he let it slip from his shoulders, the sleeves crumpling around his wrists before the whole thing pooled on the bed behind him. It was almost sultry, and Hikaru had to remind himself of why they were taking Keito’s shirt off in the first place. Arm. Injury. Right.

Keito’s arm was completely wrapped up from his wrist all the way onto his chest, in plastic wrap, the skin underneath pink and irritated, and there, etched into his pink skin were thin black lines, running from his wrist all the way up his shoulder and onto his chest, the left pectoral muscle webbed in ink. Hikaru moved to sit by Keito’s left arm, surprised. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but a tattoo just wasn’t it. Especially not one as big as this one seemed to be. Well, seemed like it would be when it was finished. It was just the start, and if this tattoo was anything like Hikaru remembered Shoon’s had been, it was going to take multiple sessions to get done.

It was the beginning of what looked to be a very detailed tattoo, and Keito held out his arm for Hikaru to see, curling his hand into a fist and extending his arm as far as he could, his own eyes on the new design. It was going to be a snake, Hikaru realized, the body twisting around Keito’s arm and coming up over his shoulder before coming back down, it’s head on his bicep, mouth open. It was woven in between huge chrysanthemum flowers, their delicate petals curling in beautiful radial patterns. It was intricate already, and Hikaru knew that by the time it was finished it would be an elaborate work of art. He took Keito’s hand in his, rotating the younger man’s arm slowly so that he could take in all of the details.

“My dad designed it. He said it was a reminder of who I am. And it’s something we can do together; he’s getting his leg done.” Keito paused, his eyes still on his own skin. He had a little smile on his face, but then he glanced up at Hikaru’s face, the smile faltering, and when he spoke again he sounded slightly hesitant. “What do you think?”

“Keito….it’s beautiful.” Hikaru assured him, and Keito beamed.

“You really like it?” He asked, and Hikaru nodded. “Good, because I love it.” Keito admitted, enthusiasm in his tone. It made Hikaru smile, and he said

“Want help washing up?” Keito nodded, asking in return

“How’s your thigh?” Hikaru shrugged. Stitches were never fun, but it wasn’t like the pain was unexpected. Keito frowned.

“Let me look at it.” Hikaru smiled, asking teasingly

“Keito, are you trying to get me out of my pants?” Keito just treated him to an affectionate grin and reached out, tugging on Hikaru’s belt buckle. Hikaru took a leaf out of Keito’s book and just stood still and let him do it, watching the muscles in Keito’s strong arms move as they undid his belt and pulled his pants down to pool around his ankles. Keito leaned in, unwrapping the bandages on Hikaru’s right upper thigh, fingers gentle as he examined the long line of stitches curling into Hikaru’s bruised flesh. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips pursed and turned down in a small frown as he took in Hikaru’s injury. He applied the faintest amount of pressure to the nearby skin, eyes darting up to Hikaru’s face, trying to gauge his reaction for any signs of pain. Hikaru decided to throw him a bone.

“It hurts a bit.” Hikaru conceded, and Keito nodded.

“Do you want me to clean you up too?”

“Sure. C’mon. You first.” Hikaru kicked off his pants, leading Keito into his private bathroom, washing his own hands before taking Keito’s inked up arm in them, and unwrapping the plastic. It was loud, and Keito tensed up as it dragged on his skin. Hikaru didn’t stop until the wrap was all off, not wanting to drag the process out, but once it was he balled it up in his fist, trying to gauge just how much pain Keito was in. Keito pushed his arm closer, offering it to him. Hikaru tried to remember what his arm had felt like when he’d gotten his tattoo done. That had been nearly eight years ago, when he was still a kid, and honestly it seemed like a distant memory. Keito treated him to a look of confusion, head tilting a bit before he pursed his lips and said

“It just hurts a little. I’m fine. I’m not a little bitch. If you want I can just do it myself.”

“No. I want to.” Hikaru told him, and Keito blushed a bit at that, but he didn’t back down, saying in a slightly teasing manner

“C’mon then.” Hikaru pulled Keito closer, treating him to a look before leaning in for a quick kiss, pressing his lips to Keito’s briefly before lathering his hands with soap and beginning to work, cleaning Keito’s raw pink skin. It must have hurt, Keito’s hand curling into a fist, his muscles tense, but he didn’t say anything, and Hikaru didn’t either. It was a slow process, and Hikaru found that after having not seen Keito for most of the day it was a process he was enjoying. He was still taking in the little details of Keito’s new tattoo, and the whole thing was a nice excuse to let himself stand close and just touch Keito’s skin. They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, before Keito asked

“So how were things today? Did anything exciting happen? How’s Yabu?” Hikaru smiled, hands stilling on Keito’s bicep for a moment.

“Yabu’s fine. Takaki and Inoo spent most of the afternoon with him, and after dinner Ryutaro roped him into a card game with Yamada. I think he ended up giving them nearly all of his money. It's been quiet. Lots of cards. I've been looking at the renovation plans for another apartment complex that the underlings have been asking about.” Keito chuckled, saying

“I would have loved to have watched that card game.” Hikaru nodded, getting back to work on lathering up Keito’s arm, and as he did he asked

“What about you? How is the Oyabun anyway?” Keito’s eyes lit up at the mention of his father, and the smile already playing on his lips bloomed into something bigger, the younger man declaring enthusiastically

“Dad is good! He’s got a lot going on, but he seems very happy. Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. I think things are going well for him. And we had a really nice lunch. He taught me how to drink, and at his tattooists we caught up. He told me some stories.” Keito had a playful look in his eye, and Hikaru stopped, his soapy hands resting on Keito’s bare chest, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes for a moment, the excitement in Keito’s face making anticipation curl in his stomach. “He told me stories about you. Stuff about what you were like as a kid.” Keito admitted looking immensely pleased, and Hikaru could feel embarrassment rising to color his cheeks pink.

“Don’t believe anything he says.” Hikaru muttered, looking down to where his hands were running over Keito’s shoulder, focusing his gaze on his work. Keito was still smiling, and he looked beautiful, and happy, and it made the thought that Kenichi had undoubtedly told his son some of Hikaru’s more pathetic childhood moments one that he thought perhaps he was okay with, until Keito asked, barely contained laughter in his voice

“So, you’re saying that he lied about you being violently afraid of cats?” Hikaru froze. He’d forgotten that Kenichi knew. He’d thought that secret had been contained to himself and Yabu. It wasn’t his dirtiest secret, but Keito already knew his dirtiest secrets. This one was just...embarrassing. And lame. And very real. He bowed his head, hands coming up to rub at his temples, and he groaned.

“Shit.” When he looked up, the smile had slid off of Keito’s face a bit, and Keito leaned into him, nuzzling him before pressing their lips together. It was comforting, and Hikaru found himself leaning into the kiss, the mortification he’d felt slipping away just a bit as Keito’s lips moved against his own. It was amazing, just how warm and loved Keito could make him feel, and when the kiss broke Keito told him

“I thought it was really cute. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Hikaru nodded, not really knowing how to respond to being called cute. He hadn’t been called cute in what was probably years. Keito leaned in, kissing him again, before turning his attention back to his still soapy arm. “Let’s get me all cleaned up before I drip soap all over your bathroom.” Hikaru nodded again, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet by the sink and wetting it, wiping away the soap. They fell into another comfortable silence, Hikaru finding himself admiring the linework on Keito’s arm, eyes raking over the detailed designs.

“Maybe I’ll get another tattoo.” Hikaru declared, and Keito smiled at him, motioning for Hikaru to sit, perched on the toilet seat in nothing but his underwear, as Keito grabbed a fresh washcloth and got down on his knees, cleaning up any bodily fluids that had oozed out or crusted over the wound on his thigh. The area was rather sensitive, and Hikaru tried not to squirm as Keito worked.

“Maybe you could get something scary, to put the fear of the Kumi-cho into the hearts of our enemies.” Keito suggested, and while it sounded almost like a joke, the words done lighthearted and thrown out without deep thought, Hikaru nodded.

“Maybe a demon!” He declared, raising his hands up, curling his fingers into claws and bearing his teeth. Keito laughed, and they swapped ideas as they rebandaged each other’s limbs, and Hikaru rubbed lotion into Keito’s skin. Hikaru eventually lost interest in the topic of his potential future tattoos, instead standing and placing kisses on Keito’s neck, as his hands trailed over his boyfriend’s aching muscles.

Keito sighed, leaning into his touches, and Hikaru let his hands settle on Keito’s waist instead, leaning into him and feeling Keito tuck his face into Hikaru’s neck. Keito’s hands trailed down his back, palms hot on Hikaru’s skin, pressing into him and pulling him closer, and they stayed like that for a few moments, before Hikaru yawned, the late hour catching up to him, and Keito murmured against his skin

“I should go get in bed. It’s late.”

“Okay.” Hikaru agreed, and after a few moments they broke apart, Hikaru yawning again in spite of himself. They made it out of the bathroom and into Hikaru’s bedroom before Hikaru grabbed Keito by his right arm and dragged him to the bed, pushing him gently down onto it before clambering on top of him, splaying out so that Keito couldn’t move. It was childish, and silly, and yeah, it irritated his stitches a bit, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Perhaps he was sleepier than he’d thought, but all he knew was that he didn’t want Keito to go. He had missed him all day, and they’d just barely gotten to see each other. He wasn’t ready to separate again, even if it was just for Keito to go upstairs. Keito chuckled, wrapping his arms loosely around Hikaru and smiling into a kiss, before saying

“C’mon. Bed.”

“Stay?” Hikaru asked, pushing himself up so that he was on his hands and knees above his boyfriend. They’d slept in the same bed a handful of times before, but that had been before they’d gotten together. He’d hadn’t proposed that Keito spend the night in his room with him since he’d become the Kumi-cho, and he realized that he was just a little nervous. But then Keito smiled, nodding.

“Sure. Just let me get out of some of these layers.” Hikaru got up, and the two of them gathered their discarded clothes from the bed and the floor and stripped down to their underwear before falling back into the mattress. Hikaru wrapped his arm around Keito’s shoulders, pulling him in close, and Keito smiled, leaning into him, kissing him on the side of his nose, and Hikaru scrunched up his face a little, letting out a whine. They talked and kissed for a while longer, the two of them eventually turning until Hikaru had Keito’s head tucked up under his chin, his arms wrapped around Keito’s bare chest, Keito’s bandaged arm thrust out away from them. Keito’s shampoo smelled good. Hikaru found himself smiling as he shifted closer, his chest flush against Keito’s bare back. This. This was worth the wait.


End file.
